


The Gold Hussy

by silverr



Category: Saint Seiya
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-06
Updated: 2004-09-07
Packaged: 2017-10-13 16:24:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverr/pseuds/silverr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Milo has a rep as the promiscuous party boy of the Saints. Mu is his polar opposite. When they're forced to room together, will Mu become the next notch on Milo's bedpost – or will he blast Milo into stardust first? Citrusy fanon-yaoi humor that some may consider OOC. Guest-starring genial!Aldebaraan and prissy!Shaka. Written for Philotas' "Host a Goldie!" fic challenge.</p><p>** Chapter 2 - now with more Shaka! - has been restored. **</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Search of a Midnight Snack

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: St. Seiya is copyright Kurumada Masami and Toei. No infringement or disrespect of the intellectual property rights held by the owners of existing copyrights in Saint Seiya or its derivative works is intended by this non-profit, noncommercial amateur fan fiction.  
> .

"I'd never have suspected you were the type to sleep in the nude."

When this sentence is uttered by an unexpected visitor in one's bedroom in the middle of the night it tends to be a little unsettling, and so it's understandable that the usually self-possessed Mu of Aries came awake with a gasp and fell out of his bed.

Someone had already lit the lamp – the someone being Scorpio Milo, the speaker of the sentence. Sitting on Mu's bed as though his presence was nothing out of the ordinary., he said, "I need a favor."

Mu blinked, then stood and walked across the room with as much dignity as he could muster.

Milo murmured appreciatively. "Nice ass."

Mu took a robe from the shelf of a small wooden wardrobe."Why are you here, Milo?" he asked as he knotted the belt.

"Well, like I said, I want to ask a favor. I was hoping you could help me with a problem."

"Problem?" Mu turned and folded his arms patiently.

"Yes, well," Milo looked down at the bedspread, smoothed it with his hand as he let his hair fall over his face. "You know everyone thinks of me as this – " he shrugged, " – insatiable sex fiend or something ... " There was a slight quiver in his voice.

"Coming uninvited to a bedroom in the middle of the night doesn't do much to dispel that," Mu said with just the faintest edge of irritation.

Milo looked, up, his eyes large and apparently brimming with tears through the tangled fall of his hair. "See, I hadn't even thought of that, or how it would look ... I just don't know how to change the way people see me. How can I get people to take me seriously? I thought you could help me with that. People look up to you. They admire you, not write jokes about you in the bathroom."

Mu said, "Milo, I have an idea what you're up to – and it won't work."

"What I'm up to?" Milo asked uncertainly. "What do you mean? I came here for your help."

"Which required seductive clothing?"

Milo spread his hands and looked down at the leather pants and white silk shirt (open to the waist, of course) as if surprised to find himself dressed that way. "What, this? This is what I _always_ wear."

"To sleep?" Mu asked, then, "And you're trying to manipulate my emotions by flattery, or get my sympathy by pretending to cry. Was I supposed to sit next to you, put my arm around you, comfort you? And then what, things would progress from there?"

"I don't know what you mean," Milo said, looking down again.

Mu continued crisply, "Shaka told me you came to him last week with the same story. He tells me that he and I are on a list of planned conquests you have."

Milo looked up, smiling. "Well, you got me. Still, it's not such a bad idea, is it? How about it? I'm here . . . you're here . . . we're both awake . . . ?"

"Milo," Mu said, his voice dangerously low, "get off my bed and out of my temple – _now_."

"Hey hey, OK, no reason to get mad," Milo said placatingly as he stood, "Just because I find you attractive is no reason to get all huffy." He picked up a small bag from the bedside table as he walked to the door.

"What is that?" Mu asked, nodding at the bag.

Milo shrugged. "Oh, I brought, you know, _supplies_. And toys. In case you said yes." He hurried to the door as Mu, his eyes flashing, began to unfold his arms. "Have a good trip, OK?" Milo tossed over his shoulder as a parting comment, "See you when you get back!" as he ran out of Mu's temple into the dark (presumably up the stairs back to his own temple).

"Toys," Mu muttered as he blew out the lamp and climbed back into his narrow bed. "Such a strange thing to bring."

_._

(43) 8 Mar 2010


	2. Misplaced Communications

.

.

It really wasn't fair. He hadn't been gone that long.

He'd gone to Rozan to talk to Roshi about some administrative items that couldn't be handled via cosmo – "Cosmo," Roshi was fond of saying, "is no substitute for a fax line." – Since Roshi didn't have a fax line either, Mu teleported. As usual, once the Sanctuary business – in this case the budget for the upcoming year – was finalized, they sat by the waterfall and discussed the usual subjects – trainees, the lack of Tibetan restaurants in Greece, politics, Kiki, Chinese soccer, how much they missed Shion, and of course Shiryu, at which topic Mu became so morose that the tea was exchanged for Roshi's unspeakably potent home-made liquor... . Next thing Mu knew it was far past midnight. Taking Roshi's admonition that it was a bad idea to teleport drunk, Mu spent the night in Rozan.

When he returned to Sanctuary late the next morning he realized that the decision had probably saved his life. The damnably cheerful late morning light shone through the cloud of dust and glinted prettily off the mass of twisted metal and plastic panels which had been, until approximately 1:17 a.m. that morning, a communications satellite. At 1:18 a.m., the satellite, apparently having grown tired of its job, stopped communicating and spiraled to earth to crash into Aries Temple. A temple that had been built 2 decades before the Taj Mahal.

Mu bent down and picked up a piece of white marble. After a moment he could tell – yes, this fragment was from his favorite windowsill, second from the entrance, where he often sat to look out over the training Coliseum and idly writing "Dragon" over and over again with his fingertip.

A crunch of gravel behind him. He turned – too fast! Arg, why did he never remember how unpleasant this "hangover" state was? – and saw his neighbor Aldebaraan.

"What a mess, eh?" the Brazilian boomed. "Were you inside when it hit?"

Mu, wincing, raised a hand. "Too loud, my friend."

Aldebaraan peered at him. "Oh, you drank alcohol at Roshi's, didn't you?"

"Yes." Mu said, shading his eyes. Was there something wrong with the sun? It couldn't be good for the eyes to be out when the light was this blinding.

"You missed the weekly dawn meeting."

" – and even more important," said a new voice, this one much quieter than Aldebaraan's – "you missed the special agenda item, which directly concerned you and your temple."

"Special agenda item?" Mu echoed, with a sudden sinking feeling as he watched Shaka stepping purposefully through the rubble.

"Yes," the Virgo Saint said, "Let me ask you this, Mu – will you be able to repair your Temple?"

"This?" Mu clutched the piece of marble with both hands and pressed it to his chest. "No, this is ... too far gone. If it was just cracks in the walls, or a few pillars gone, or even just the roof, I could do it but ... " Tears welled up unexpectedly. _Damn hangover_. "This is completely smashed."

He met Aldebaraan's eyes, and appreciated that the Taurus Saint did not add, "Even more than you were last night, eh?" in front of Shaka. Shaka disapproved of alcohol – as he did of so many things – and Mu just wasn't up to being scolded. Especially today.

Shaka gave Aldebaraan a look – well, if a man whose eyes were always closed could be considered to _give_ a look ... Something was definitely up.

"Then it seems that the special action item will have to go into effect," Shaka said meaningfully.

"Special action item?" Mu said again.

"Yes, it was decided that if your Temple couldn't be repaired you should stay in another while yours is rebuilt."

"Well, fortunately Roshi approved the budget last night – "

"And the budget had money for constructing a new temple for you in it?" asked Shaka.

"Well, no," confessed Mu. "Just funds to repair the damages after the Bronze Saints went through." His head hurt.

"Ah, Roshi and Athena can find the money," Aldebaraan said, noticing a vein in Mu's forehead start to throb, "Salvage what you want out of the wreckage and we'll help you move."

"Where am I going? Libra? Aquarius?" Mu liked the Aquarius temple, Spartan and round, though the most practical place to stay was probably Gemini, as it was next to Aldebaraan and would be the closest to his re-construction.

"Well, some people felt it would be better if you had company during such a trying time," Shaka said smoothly. "So when Athena asked for a volunteer to host you -"

"You or Shaka?" Mu asked Aldebaraan, impatient.

"Well," Aldebaraan began.

" ... ?!"

"You see, I was helping Shaka unsnag his hair from the collar of his Cloth, so I," the Taurus Saint's voice dropped to a mumble, "I didn't speak up fast enough."

"So I'm staying with you?" Mu asked Shaka.

Shaka smiled at him faintly. It was, as always, a chilling sight, "No," the golden-haired Virgo Saint said serenely, "no, someone _else_ offered first."

"And it would have been rude to override him," Aldebaraan added. He was flushed dark red in embarrassment. "Listen, if he drives you crazy you can always come and stay with me."

"WHO AM I STAYING WITH?" Mu demanded, for a moment forgetting about his splitting headache as he sensed a second impact approaching.

"Milo of Scorpio," Shaka said.

It could have been the hangover, but Mu could have sworn that there was a definite note of malicious glee in Shaka's voice.

_._

_._

(43) 8 Mar 2010


	3. A Hard Day's Journey Into Late at Night

It was not a good omen. Not that he believed in omens, of course, it was just an expression, but still his first sight of Milo was not auspicious.

He hadn't salvaged much from the wreckage of Aries temple – mostly because touching the dead stone depressed him, and partly because he didn't have many possessions to begin with. He'd worn his Cloth to Rozan, of course, and its box was almost indestructible, but not much else in his Temple was. A few mementos of Shion had survived because they were in a box under his bed. His robe, a short tunic, and his wool _chuba_ turned up underneath the big pile of kindling-sticks that used to be the wardrobe. And ironically, a spectacularly ugly painted clay bowl that Kiki had made for him years ago had survived.

As he wrapped it in his tunic and put it in a sack with his few other things he sighed for the hundredth time, thinking again how very much he did NOT want to go to stay with Milo. Yes, he was a fellow Saint, but the thought of staying in Scorpio temple filled Mu with a dread that he had never felt facing any enemy.

"Couldn't I just put up a tent over there? Then I could stay close and supervise the reconstruction."

"What? And live next to this pile until your Temple is rebuilt?" laughed Aldebaraan, lifting a huge column as if it were made of papier-mâché. "I can see it now – challenging enemies of Sanctuary to battle you for the right to unzip your tent flap!"

Mu smiled tensely.

Aldebaraan turned, his brow furrowed in concern. "Ah, Mu, are you truly that concerned about staying with Milo? He's not that bad. Most of it's an act."

"I suppose," Mu said. "but it's an act he carries quite far." He hesitated, then added, "He came to my temple two nights ago. In the middle of the night."

"Oh?" Aldebaraan's eyebrow rose and he grinned. "Lucky you."

Mu looked up. "I threw him out."

"And wasted such an opportunity?" At Mu's astounded expression, the tall Brazilian added, "I'll admit I'm a little envious because I don't think I'm on his list. Unless he's saving the biggest for last."

"You know about this alleged list?"

"I thought _everyone_ knew about Milo's Famous List," Aldebaraan said, scratching his chin. "Well, if I'm not on it, it's probably for the best anyhow. If I got carried away I might break him in the height of passion."

"Oh you – you – you would never accept the advances of someone like Milo!"

"Why not? He's fun to be around, full of high spirits and hearty male energy. You should sleep with him, he's probably a very good lover. Playful and attentive."

Mu squawked in indignation. "You're not serious!"

"OK, if you say so," Aldebaraan said with a smile. "Anyhow, since you don't find him at all attractive you'll have no trouble resisting. He's persistent but he won't force himself on you." He allowed the subject to lapse.

When Mu couldn't bear to sift through his ruined temple any more they walked together up to Taurus. "As I said, if you can't take it come and stay with me," the Taurus Saint said, his large hand patting Mu's shoulder. "But I don't think you should. I really think being around Milo might be good for you."

Mu said tartly, "If you think Milo's so beneficial, why don't YOU go stay with him, and I'll stay in your Temple?"

"No, no," Aldebaraan laughed. "Milo's bed would be much too short for me. But," he added with a twinkle, "for you, it should be the right size."

"I will NOT be sleeping in Milo's bed, having sex with Milo, or having any sort of fun at all with Milo!" Mu said hotly.

"Of course not." Aldebaraan's attempts to suppress a smile were not very unsuccessful.

Mu went on, grumbling all the way up the stairs to Gemini. Why couldn't he stay in one of the empty Temples? he wondered. They were perfectly good – well, perfectly good if you disregarded the dimensional fold in Gemini, and the grotesque walls in Cancer ... but still ... _empty_.

Fortunately, Leo Temple's occupant was out.

Unfortunately, Virgo Temple's was not.

Shaka was sitting motionless on his stone lotus, though he seemed out of breath. "Off to Scorpio?" he asked, panting a little.

"Yes."

He smiled serenely. "You have your defensive strategy all worked out, of course?"

"Defensive strategy?"

"Ah, I see," Shaka said, maddeningly detached. "You've decided to go in with no preconceived assumptions. A bold move. It will be interesting to see what counter-tactics he will use on you."

"Defense? Strategy? Counter-tactics? You make it sound like a war."

"Well, you _will_ be under attack as soon as you pass the lintel post," Shaka said. "Although it won't matter whether you resist or not," Shaka continued matter-of-factly. "Everyone will assume he's had intercourse with you, and your reputation will be stained without having had any of the enjoyment people will accuse you of."

Mu raised an eyebrow. "Enjoyment?" He hadn't thought that the word was even in Shaka's vocabulary.

"Well, the less spiritually advanced would probably not find sexual matters so distracting if they weren't pleasant in some aspect," Shaka said lamely.

"Shaka, you're not helping."

"Mu, it is not in my nature to provide unsolicited help. It's best if each soul finds its own way through life's turmoil."

"Can't I stay here tonight?" Mu asked, not concealing his desperation.

"I only have one bed," Shaka said. "As do all the Saints, Mu. Only the Kyoko has guest rooms." Shaka arranged his beads more artistically across his thigh. "Besides, you need to teach Milo a lesson. Show him that not everyone falls to his various charms. Put him in his place by showing him that some Saints are better than others."

"I see you offer unsolicited help after all," Mu murmured as he turned to go.

Shaka's voice floated after him. "Advice is different then help, Mu."

Now feeling distinctly annoyed with both of his friends, Mu trudged through Libra and then – he was there.

On the doorstep.

Scorpio Temple.

He just needed to unglue his feet from the earth.

And.

Go.

In.

Taking a deep breath he straightened his Cloth, took a giant step through the doorway, and strode into the central corridor. "Mu of Aries, may I enter?" he called out. No reply.

He heard a faint clanging, and followed the sound.

The noises were coming from an unexpectedly modern kitchen with polished stone counter tops, sleek cabinets and, most amazingly, a large, stainless steel refrigerator. The refrigerator door was open, and in front of it were long tan legs and an almost-bare backside ... all, of course, belonging to the Scorpio Saint, rummaging on a low shelf.

Mu coughed.

Milo stood up and turned around. "Hey, roomie, you're here! Look at you, all dressed up in your Cloth and cape and all." Milo, by contrast, was wearing a tight sleeveless undershirt and low-slung denim shorts so worn and frayed they looked on the verge of disintegration. He was holding a beer, which he held out to Mu. "Wanna cold one?"

"No, it's been a long day. I just want to go to my room," Mu said frostily.

"Your room?" Milo laughed. "What room is that, _amigo_? Your room is my room, right? One temple, one bedroom," he popped open the beer, then took a long, leisurely swallow, "one _bed_." He smacked his lips happily.

Mu exhaled. It was going to be a long week.

.

Now, by definition, a bedroom is a room with a bed in it used for sleeping. Scorpio Temple may have had only one bedroom, but it had other rooms, and Mu was certain that he could find one of them to sleep in. All he required was some free floor space and a lockable door. Especially the latter. He was, in fact, willing to forego pillows, blankets, light, hygiene, and air for a door with a lock.

He finally had a bit of luck. At the end of a short, dim hallway tucked in a corner of the temple two corridors away from the main passage, he found a small library with a tiny adjoining bathroom. No shower, no tub, but a toilet and a sink, thick with dust ... And, marvel of marvels, the library door was of heavy ironheart oak that locked from the inside with a bolt that looked as though it had come from a castle.

After he set his soap and other items on the dusty shelf above the dusty sink he wondered how Milo had managed to acquire indoor plumbing AND electricity in his Temple: most temples had neither. Mu had done without both in Tibet for years – the privation was good discipline – but still, it would be a welcome luxury not to have to take care of a chamber pot for a while. Or teleport to a hot springs to bathe, for that matter.

As he tested the bolt he happily imagined Milo rattling the door handle and being frustrated. Milo wouldn't be able to come in the middle of the night and try to do ... to do whatever it was he wanted to do.

The idea of frustrating Milo pleased Mu, but also made him feel odd. Not exactly uncomfortable, but not entirely satisfied either. He appreciated, in a completely objective way, that Milo was considered attractive, but he was so – _extreme_. What he said, the way he moved, even the way he dressed. Take what he was wearing today ... those shorts barely covered his – Mu realized belatedly as he pictured the outfit that what he'd taken as just the fluffy edges of the shorts in front ... had been much ... curlier and darker blue than the other frayed edges of faded denim, which meant that the fluff hadn't been ... fabric.

His face got hot. He felt a sudden need to investigate the library. Thoroughly.

Every inch of wall was bookshelf. Knee-high stacks of books on the floor, tiny tables stacked to the limit with even more books ... A huge pile of books at the other end of the room turned out to have a small velvet couch entombed underneath. He'd have to curl up a bit to sleep on it, but it was better than being on the floor. Mu moved the dusty stacks carefully, noticing as he did so the variety – the previous Scorpion Saint must have been quite the scholar. History, poetry, tactics, aesthetics, engineering, philosophy, biographies, books in Latin, Greek, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, French, German, Sanskrit and – Pali? He put the Pali volume to one side. An interesting language: Shaka'd started teaching him once.

The couch was perfectly situated to read using the last of the daylight. Mu was painstakingly translating a Jatakta teaching story of the Buddha when he was startled by a knock on the door.

It was, of course, Milo. Now dressed in a sweater and sweatpants, he said he was making dinner and asked if Mu would like to join him. He made no comment about the door having been locked.

"I'm not hungry," Mu said, the break having restored his equilibrium. "It's been very a stressful day."

"OK. Feel free to raid the fridge if you get hungry later. Do you need anything else?"

Milo's eyes were pure cobalt blue, even brighter than Shaka's. They were hypnotic: Mu found himself asking. "A blanket?"

"Aw, you're going to sleep in here? Too tired to fight me off, eh?" Milo winked, then sprinted away down the hallway. He came back a few minutes later with a set of sheets – Mu was happy to see that they were plain white cotton – and two thick blankets as soft as cashmere. The sheets and blankets had a faint, pleasant smell.

"Sleep well," Milo said as he put the linens in Mu's arms, then turned and walked away.

Grateful at least that Milo hadn't tried to engage in small talk – or reached for any body parts – Mu re-bolted the door, then washed up, put his tunic on, and settled down on the couch.

He had no idea how long he'd been asleep, except that the room was entirely dark when he woke. Puzzled as to what roused him he waited. Suddenly he heard heavy thuds and thumps and a man – no _men_ , several men, shouting, "Kill him! Kill him! Kill the bastard!"

There was no time to don his Cloth. He unbolted the door and flew down the corridor toward the commotion.

And stopped dead at the sight.

Milo, Aiolia, and four trainees were sprawled on couches and rugs around a huge glowing screen that displayed a moving picture of a young boy in armor, wielding a huge sword and fighting what looked like a metal snowman in front of a large castle.

Milo caught sight of Mu's face. The movement on the screen stopped and Milo asked, "Everything OK?"

"I thought – " Mu realized that what he'd heard had simply been the group cheering a make-believe battle, and not real people being massacred.

Milo seemed to understand what had brought Mu out of his room, though, and said, "Perfect timing. You missed Episode 1, but you're just in time to see Zabuzo get cleaved."

"Hey, you Milo's new roommate?" asked one of the trainees. "Cop a squat, man." He slapped the floor.

"I beg your pardon?" This boy wanted him to – defecate on the rug?

"He's indicating a place to sit in case you wanted to stay and watch the video with us," Aiolia said with a small smile. His friendship with Shaka had made him sensitive to the slang deficiencies of long-haired Saints.

Mu reluctantly sat down.

"So, do you think that kid would make a good Saint?" Milo asked Mu, pointing at the television, where the young boy with the enormous sword resumed his fight with the armored, ax-swinging giant.

Before Mu could answer, one of the trainees – his long pale blue hair and dreamy voice reminiscent of the late Aphrodite's – asked, "Did you see the man in the white armor? Up on the battlements? Don't you think he should be a Saint too? He's got the looks for it. Is there a Hawk constellation?"

"Closest is Eagle Aquila," Aiolia said absently, absorbed in the action on screen. "But that Cloth won't open up until Marin retires."

"Really? I heard that Cloth opens up every night for certain people," Milo said, poking Aiolia in the shoulder with his bare foot. "Though I'm sure you're just there checking for physical damage, right? You're so thoughtful."

"He's downright upright," said one of the trainees with a giggle.

"Except when he's horizontal," said another.

"She know yet about that blonde you've been seeing?" asked the azure-haired trainee. He clasped his hands together dramatically over his chest and trilled in falsetto, "Oh, Aiolia, I'm a flower! Come into my garden and pluck me! Pluck me _now_!" He fell onto his back and pulled his shirt open. The two trainees next to him exploded with laughter.

"That's enough," growled Aiolia. "I can't hear the television."

"We made popcorn," whispered the fourth trainee to Mu, holding out a bowl. "We had chips, but they're all gone."

"Thank you," said Mu, taking the bowl and holding it in his lap. The trainee, who had very short blond-white hair, no shirt, and a ring through one eyebrow, smiled at Mu nervously.

On screen, to dramatic music, the boy's sword bit into the giant's ax.

Mu heard a creak of leather as Milo shifted on the couch to sit directly behind him. After a minute, when Milo reached over Mu's shoulder to scoop up some popcorn, he used the movement as an excuse to slip his feet under Mu's buttocks, wiggling his toes a bit to make sure Mu knew that the contact wasn't accidental.

Mu, confused by the conversation – what garden were they talking about? – and annoyed at Milo's feet, had had enough. "Thank you for the invitation," he said, handing the popcorn bowl to the white-haired boy and standing. "I'm going back to sleep. I – I'm glad that no one's dead."

As he trudged back to the library he realized that he _almost_ meant it.

.

_._

(43) 8 Mar 2010


	4. A Tough Nut to Crack

There were advantages to being an early riser, not the least of which was that you were dressed by the time your Goddess knocked on your door.

"Milo told me that you were hiding back here," Saori said with a smile. "Do you have a few minutes?"

"Of course," Mu gestured towards the couch with a half bow, thankful that he had folded away the bedding.

"I have news for you," Saori said, folding her hands in her lap, "some good, some not so good."

Mu waited.

"The good news is that we'll be able to start your new temple immediately. I've already signed the order for the marble, and the master stonemason has said that he will have no problem using the original plans to re-create the Temple exactly as it was."

"Thank you."

"The bad news is that the construction will take longer than was first estimated. When Sanctuary was first built we were able to find many skilled laborers fin the area, but now there are far fewer skilled stonemasons to draw on. And," she took a deep breath, "due to the recent losses we have far fewer trainees to help with the heavy labor."

"Both Aldebaraan and I – " Mu began, but stopped as Saori shook her head.

"I know that both you and Aldebaraan have been using your powers to clear away the debris from the site, but I prefer that you stop once outsiders are on the grounds. When Sanctuary was built people believed in gods and magic, but in these times the special abilities of the Gold Saints need to be concealed from the public."

"Of course."

Saori bowed her head, and said with sudden emotion, wringing her hands, "And those of you that remain must take the time to recover from your losses and renew yourself. I could not bear to lose any more of you."

"I understand." Mu hesitated. Best to gently lead the conversation away from the painful. "How long is the reconstruction scheduled to take, then?" It sounded like his initial estimate of only having to endure a week with Milo had been wishful thinking.

"I'm sorry, I don't have any idea yet. I know you're eager to return to your post as our first line of defense, but Aldebaraan said he'd he honored to temporarily step up to that role in your absence."

Mu nodded.

"And Milo says he's happy to continue to host you until your Temple is completed."

"Athena – " Mu began, then stopped. Milo's behavior was probably not the sort of thing that it was appropriate to complain to your Goddess about, so he said instead, "I cannot express how much I appreciate your support, and that of my fellow Saints."

"Yes, I'm sure the next few months will fly by, and before you know it you'll be able to move back to your home again," Saori said lightly as she rose and swept out the library door.

Five minutes later, Mu finally stopped choking long enough to squeak out after her, "MONTHS? No one said anything about _months!_ "

.

Without the visible progress of Aries Temple's reconstruction Mu probably would have gone mad. Or torn his hair out. Or both. He mentioned as much to Aldebaraan.

"Good that you aren't tearing it out," Aldebaraan said, "since it would take so long to grow it back." They were sitting on the top steps of Taurus Temple, watching workers – who had been told, truthfully, that they were restoring a site of great historical significance – assemble scaffolding on the Aries Temple site below them. Aldebaraan had brought out a bag of nuts, and was idly cracking them between thumb and forefinger, then handing them to Mu to separate out the meats from the shells.

"Things are progressing," he added. It was true. The masons had marked out the perimeter of the temple, leveled the foundation, and were directing the placement of the first slabs of the floor and the first stone blocks of the walls.

"Maybe they'll fix that tilt," Aldebaraan said in a final attempt to pry some conversation out of Mu.

"Tilt?" The Aries Saint dropped a handful of shells into one of the bowls at his feet.

"You never noticed that none of the floors in your Temple were level? Everything rolled to the southeast."

"Really? How do you know this?" Mu asked.

"I dropped a lot of things all those years I took care of your Temple."

Mu smiled. Despite everything, he had to admit he was having a good morning, sitting here in the shade with his friend. He felt almost content. After the initial uproar his days had eased into a reassuring rhythm. After his morning rituals he'd sneak out of Scorpio to spend most of the day watching the construction, then return to Scorpio Temple late in the evening, as silent a shadow. Of course he greeted Milo if they passed each other, but sometimes two or three days went by without seeing his "roommate." This suited Mu just fine, as he dreaded each occasion when he had to politely fend off Milo's invitations to eat, socialize, or sleep with him. After bolting the library door he'd read for an hour or so before washing up and going to sleep.

Aldebaraan, true friend that he was, accepted Mu's daily presence without comment, didn't mention Milo, fun, or lists unless Mu brought them up first, and returned from his daily trips to the market (for, unlike Milo he had no electricity and therefore no refrigeration) with the vegetarian foods Mu favored.

"He's still asking you to sleep with him?" Aldebaraan said with a small smile as he picked away the shell from a newly-cracked walnut. "He must like you a lot, to keep trying after so much disappointment."

They looked up at the sound of footsteps; Shaka. He'd obviously overheard the last comment, because he said dryly, "It has nothing to do with liking, he propositions everyone. He's just looking for a convenient source of meaningless carnal relations. His tactic is endless assault, wagering that you'll ultimately surrender out of fatigue."

"Isn't perseverance considered a virtue?" Aldebaraan asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"If it is, it's ranked far lower than abstinence," Shaka said loftily.

"Why is that, do you suppose?" Aldebaraan mused, looking up at the clouds as though they held the answer. "I wonder if the people who make those rules have ever experienced the joy of lovemaking?"

Shaka, showing a rather un-Buddhalike irritation with the discussion, turned to Mu. "So, I take it you've kept him at bay? How have you managed that?"

Mu explained about the library and its door.

"Oh I see. Well, retreat is a valid strategy." His patronizing tone suggested that he believed not a word of what he'd just said.

"You don't approve?"

"By avoiding Milo you're letting him win. Handing over complete control of the situation, and complete control of _you_."

Mu, feeling some un-Buddhalike emotions himself now, asked, "And what would you suggest I do, Shaka of Virgo?"

"Boldly meet whatever he throws at you, and shrug it off as the trivial, inconsequential annoyance it is."

"Whatever he throws at me?"

"Certainly. Accept every invitation, spend as much time as possible with him, and when he attempts physical liberties give him the only reaction that he won't be prepared for – indifference. No matter what he does to you."

"Hm," Aldebaraan frowned slightly. "Shaka, that might be a mistake. Passivity might encourage might see the change from active resistance as progress."

"No," Mu said, "Shaka is right. Avoiding Milo hasn't accomplished anything, and it feels like cowardice."

"Mu, you're not a coward," Aldebaraan said. "You're just touchy."

"I think," Mu said, standing and brushing the nutshell fragments from his hands and tunic, "that I'm going to offer to have lunch with my roommate."

"I think that's the right thing to do," Shaka said primly.

"Have fun," Aldebaraan winked. 

_._

_._

(43) 8 Mar 2010


	5. A Bluff in the Buff

.

Milo was in the Scorpio Temple's kitchen, squatting in front of the open oven slicing strips from a cone of meat sizzling on a rack under the broiler. The kitchen was filled with good smells.

"Hey ... what's a Saint like you doing in a place like this?" Milo said.

"I thought I'd see if you wanted to have lunch with me," Mu said. He had decided to pretend as if he were talking to Aldebaraan.

"Oh?" Milo twisted to look at Mu in surprise, then stood, set the platter onto a large tray on the counter, and closed the oven. "Well." He hooked his thumbs into the belt of the short robe he was wearing. "There's plenty on the menu. How hungry are you, and what do you have a taste for?" he asked with a smirk.

Mu, whose vocabulary had been becoming more up-to-date, now felt able to recognize – and return – double-entendre. "Well, I generally don't eat meat."

"You should, though," Milo said. "Consuming animal flesh is good for you. Really fills you up."

"I can't let my appetites cause another creature's death. No matter how small."

Milo's mouth dropped open a bit, and then he burst into boisterous whoops of laughter."Oh, that was good! You're the rarest of the rare. Mu. A vegetarian with a sense of humor." He was so very enthusiastic and genuine that Mu found himself almost smiling as well. "Bet you've been getting slang lessons." Milo continued to chuckle as he pulled out a cutting board and sliced tomatoes and onions with a small curved knife. He gave Mu a sidelong glance as he dumped the tomatoes and onions into separate bowls, then put the bowls on a large enameled tray. "Sure you won't have any?" As if realizing he'd missed a opportunity for innuendo, Milo added in a suggestive purr as he leaned close to Mu, "Isn't there anything I can do to tempt you to wrap your mouth around my goodies?"

Mu stared at him, unblinking.

Milo grinned, shrugged, and turned back to the tray. After adding a stack of soft puffy flatbreads and a bowl filled with a shiny white semisolid substance he said, "Actually, you might like this." He stuck a fork into the white stuff and speared something lumpy that he held out to Mu.

Mu reluctantly took the fork and ate. To his surprise, It was delicious. "What is this?"

" _Tzatziki._ Cucumber and yogurt. With dill."

"It's good." It really was.

"I think my grandmother might have taught me to cook, but I can't remember." Milo tore one of the soft, puffy flatbreads in half, and asked as he handed a piece to Mu, "So tell me, what _do_ Tibetans eat?"

.

A little while later, after a conversation in which no body parts were named, exposed, or suggested, Milo said, "You know, you don't have to wash up in the library sink all the time. You can use the shower in my bathroom. I won't join you," he said, dipping his head to look at Mu flirtatiously. "Unless you need help washing your back."

Mu froze. Here it comes again, he thought. He's just ... _relentless._ But remembering Shaka's advice, he steeled himself to say, "Thank you. If you don't mind, I will shower now, before I eat."

It was gratifying to see Milo's discomfiture – though it didn't last long. "There are plenty of towels and bathrobes in the cabinet next to the shower."

"Thank you," Mu said. He left the kitchen quickly, before his shaky knees gave out.

.

Fifteen minutes later when Mu came out of the shower – a quarter hour in which he had not taken his eyes from the bathroom door in case it swung open to admit a blue-haired shadow – he returned to the kitchen to find a note on the counter. _Come up on the roof to dry your hair. Access is through my bedroom._ There was no sign of Milo or the tray of food

Expecting to find Milo sprawled out on the bed waiting to pounce, especially since there had been no attempt to take "liberties" while he was showering, Mu had to admit that he was just the slightest bit disappointed to find the bedroom empty. He was anxious for an opportunity to demonstrate how easily he could resist the amorous Scorpio's advances.

A ladder propped against the wall led to a square of sky in the high ceiling. Mu climbed. He thought he knew what to expect.

He was wrong.

It took him a minute to realize what he was seeing, so unexpected was the sight of glistening hills of white, pink, tan and brown against a black background. Then one of the hills started to move, and Mu realized that the hills were Milo and several trainees lying in the sun. On towels. Without Cloths, or, for that matter, clothes.

He was, more or less, speechless.

Milo – whose long blue hair was tied back – noticed Mu and waved. "Saved you some," he said, pointing to a plastic chest shaded by an umbrella. "Eat up and then come over here." He patted a large blue and red towel next to his own.

Mu could only nod. He was trying not to stare. Shaka really had no idea what Milo could throw at a person.

The chest contained the tray of food Milo had prepared earlier, as well as bottles of beer and water. After eating one of the flatbreads – Milo had told him they were called _pita_ – and more of the cucumbers-in-yogurt, Mu walked quickly across the hot roof tiles to the towel next to Milo.

As Mu sat down Milo rolled over and sat up. "Man, I love soaking up the sun. Advantage of being a Saint. We won't live long enough to get skin cancer." He took a white gym sock and pulled it on over his arsenal, carefully tucking everything vulnerable inside, then put on a pair of dark sunglasses and lay back splay-legged. After a few minutes he raised his sunglasses to peer at Mu. "So? You gonna join us or not?"

Mu lay back and closed his eyes.

Milo muttered, "Not quite what I meant." He moved his arm and held out a bottle labeled Bronze God Tanning Oil. "Don't be shy."

Mu took it. "Is it really so important to you to see me without clothes?"

"Absolutely." He grinned wolfishly.

Mu sighed, stood, pulled off his tunic, and dropped his pants.

Milo whistled. "So, did you have an accident, or have you been fooling us all along?"

Two of the trainees raised their head to look, and Mu squelched the urge to teleport. He lay down on his stomach on the towel. "No, Shion was like this, and Kiki is too. All the males of my race."

There was a long, thoughtful pause.

Milo had just rolled on his side and seemed about ready to ask something when one of the trainees called out, "Hey Milo, is there gonna be a bowling team this year?"

"Dunno, maybe," Milo replied.

"Bowling team?" Mu asked.

Milo shrugged, "We had one last year. Shura, Aphrodite, Aldebaraan, and me."

"Aldebaraan?" Mu was surprised.

"Yeah, it was before you came back. He was lonesome, the big ox. Always looking for something to do and someone to do it with." Milo's tone was somewhat mocking, but his face held genuine affection. "We had fun until we got banned from all the alleys. No one really wanted to bowl against us anyhow because 'fro and Shura were _way_ too competitive. They'd throw so hard the balls would shatter the pins or crash through the back wall, or they'd grip too hard and crush the space between the holes. When Shura was in a pissy mood he'd even cheat and send a concussion wave at his splits to knock them down. And I was the only one who really knew how to keep score."

"Yeah, if there's one thing Milo knows about, it's how to _score_ ," the azure-haired trainee cooed suggestively.

Milo, who had his back to the trainees, rolled his eyes.

"Didn't _you_ ever get mad when you did bowling?" Mu asked.

"No," Milo said laughing, "It's only a game. It's supposed to be fun, right?" He put his arms over his head and stretched luxuriously, managing to show off almost every well-oiled muscled group. "And I'm all about fun, right?"

Mu kept his face carefully neutral, but Milo said, "You don't approve of fun."

"To be preoccupied with it seems – shallow."

"I'm not preoccupied. I'm just using fun to," he waved his hand as he searched for the words, "fill in the gaps while I'm waiting to do the good stuff."

"Good stuff"?" Mu asked.

Without hesitation Milo said, "Doing my part to help to save the world. Waking up next to someone I love."

Mu said nothing.

"C'mon, Mu, when you put your arms around that special person afterwards, and smooth their hair and kiss them ... wouldn't you call that the good stuff?" Milo asked.

Mu turned his head away without replying.

Milo's fingers touched his shoulder. "Sorry, I didn't – " he said very quietly.

"I know," Mu's answer came. "I did ask."

"Hey," Milo said in a deliberately cheerful tone. "You better let me put something on you before you bake."

"If you must," Mu said.

Milo pulled Mu's hair out the way and started spreading oil on his shoulders. "So, how did you get this scar on your back?"

"It's not a scar, and don't touch it," Mu murmured.

A few seconds later, as Milo's hands firmly stroked up the backs of his legs, Mu realized that he was dangerously close to enjoying every single one of the new sensations he was feeling.

The thought didn't frighten him nearly as much as he thought it should.

_._

_._

(43) 8 Mar 2010


	6. Party Favors

.

"You did WHAT?"

Total astonishment was an emotion Mu rarely saw on Aldebaraan's face: the huge Brazilian generally took everything in his humorous and lengthy stride. Mu, therefore, had a little moment of amused pride at the reaction he'd caused.

"Well, I was only following Shaka's advice," he said matter-of-factly. "And you yourself told me that being around Milo would be good for me."

"Yes, but," Aldebaraan almost sputtered, "but, _nude sunbathing?_ I would never have imagined you doing such a thing." The Taurus Saint shook his head. "You applied plenty of sunscreen cream, yes?"

"Could it be in oil? Milo put an oil on me. Bronze God Tanning Lotion."

"You let him rub – ?"

"Yes."

" _Everywhere?_ "

Mu said solemnly, "He didn't want me to burn. I didn't want to burn either."

Aldebaraan shook his head in disbelief and awe. "He really IS a master of the art of pursuit." He clasped his hands and stared down at Aries Temple, now half-walled, but kept giving Mu sidelong glances.

An art, Mu thought, that Milo had suddenly stopped practicing, at least on him. After they had came down from the roof Milo had suggested in a subdued voice that Mu was welcome to take a second shower to wash off the suntan oil, and then he'd left the kitchen. Mu didn't hear him come back, and hadn't seen him since. Was Shaka right? Could Milo really not handle a reaction of indifferent acceptance? It almost seemed so. Mu wondered if it was because Milo had seen him without clothes. Had finding out that Mu was a different race – with such a different anatomy – perhaps killed his ardor?

Mu, on the other hand, now found himself somewhat curious about human male physiology. He had seen Shiryu's body at Jamir, but at the time he thought that the vestigial fur and exposed organs were some sort of birth defect Shiryu suffered from. (Imagining what he thought Shiryu must go through because of this "deformity" had just increased his feelings of tender protectiveness.) Of course yesterday, seeing so many naked human males on Milo's roof, he realized that Shiryu had normal human anatomy (which was, all in all, a relief). Seeing the bodies of Milo and the trainees gave rise to many questions, though: Did human females have fur as well? How did the males handle being so vulnerable, without protection of any sort of _tegimen?_ And what effect did it have on their sexual relations when the spear was always unsheathed? Did it mean that they were always receptive?

He took a deep breath. Aldebaraan looked at him with concern, but fortunately their daily distraction arrived just then: Shaka. Today the serene blond was carrying a square envelope, which he handed to Aldebaraan without explanation as he sank gracefully into a half-lotus, "So, how is life in Scorpio Temple?" he asked. "Did yesterday's noon meal turn into a skirmish?"

Mu glanced at Aldebaraan. Mu wasn't keen for Shaka to know about the sunbathing. As usual the genial giant understood, and said nothing.

Shaka, however, had caught the look. "Oh, so there is something?" he asked, then imperiously demanded, "Tell me what happened after you left us yesterday!"

"I showered in his bathroom yesterday," Mu said. "Then we ate lunch."

"Did he attempt to join you in the shower?" Even with his eyes closed Shaka's expression seemed avid.

"No," Mu said pointedly, "he respected my privacy." What was the reason for Shaka's interest in Milo's actions anyhow? Mu wondered. It couldn't be out of concern for Mu's well-being – Shaka wasn't that sort of Buddhist – but prurience wasn't Shaka either, despite his tendency to pry. Whatever the cause, Mu had begun to find it annoying.

Aldebaraan seemed to be irritated with Shaka as well, because when he tapped the envelope with his finger and asked, "What is this?" he sounded mildly bellicose.

"An invitation to a party," Shaka said. "Athena feels that social interaction is needed to restore her Saints to full health and readiness."

"It's going to be depressing, a small party," Aldebaraan said, "with only five of us. We should all go to a soccer match instead."

"It's not just us. She's invited the remaining Silver Saints, the Bronze Saints, and all the trainees as well." Shaka said. "She wants everyone who's alive."

Mu's interest was piqued. Bronze Saints? "And my invitation?" he asked.

"I expect you'll get yours this evening when you go back to Scorpio," Shaka said, "as the party's in your roommate's hands."

Mu carefully avoided looking at Aldebaraan, who he could tell was suppressing a guffaw. Shaka just had no sense of double-entendre.

.

The invitation said, "Casual wear" so Mu had laundered the brown tunic and leggings he'd taken to sleeping in. As he was putting them on Milo knocked on his door. "Since most of your things were wrecked by the crash, I thought you could put these to good use," Milo said, putting a folded bundle into Mu's hands."They're too small for me." He started to leave, then turned and called as he sprinted down the hall, "I might be a little late. Start the party without me!" Before Mu could reply Milo was out of sight.

The bundle contained ivory leggings, a matching tunic trimmed in brown with a silky white belt, and soft leather boots. Quite a bit more luxurious than what Mu was used to, but it fit well.

The party got off to an ominous start. There was no food or drink in sight. The first few Gold and Silver Saints that arrived stood around morosely reminiscing about the dead.. Then two dozen or so trainees arrived – including the Aphrodite look-alike (who appeared to have applied glittering oil to himself) and the slangy boy with the cropped white hair (who was dressed all in black leather, and who had small pieces of metal through his earlobes, nose, eyebrows, and tongue). They were carrying tables, chairs, and lamps which they set up in the main passageway of Scorpio Temple, turning it warm and welcoming. Unlike the Gold and Silver Saints, the trainees seemed to be intent on celebrating the fact that they had survived the recent trouble, and so it was not long before their energy and clamor lifted the mood of the party – which was also helped by their discovery that the crates stacked in the kitchen contained audio equipment and liquor. Milo finally arrived with Athena and the Bronze Saints, and started an apparently endless stream of food flowing from his kitchen..

Mu, since he was a resident (albeit a temporary one) of the temple, felt it was his duty to assist with hosting. Leaving the social aspect in Milo's capable hands, Mu tended to food and drink. Having something to do suited him and gave him an excuse to circulate without having to converse too much.

After a while, though, when the food and snacks were reduced to crumbs and unpopular pickings and the trainees had dragged the cases of wine and ale to various alcoves for extra seating Mu found himself with very little to do. He spotted an empty table in a shadowy corner and sat to watch the party.

He had to admit, Milo seemed to have a genuine gift for loosening people up and getting them to enjoy themselves – partly, Mu suspected, because by being so extreme he gave people an excuse: one could always say, "Well, I'm not as bad as Milo" as an excuse for almost anything. Dressed in his trademark tight blue leather pants and white shirt, his blue-violet hair flying around his face, he was an unstoppable force, working tirelessly to carry out Athena's request to hold a party where everyone would have a good time. He got both Hyouga and Shiryu to limbo – an amazing feat considering that neither was drinking. He cajoled Ikki into singing the chorus of a drinking song that apparently only he and Aldebaraan knew all the verses of. He goaded Aiolia into imitating a cat, then whispered in Marin's ear until she was laughing helplessly. He sent Seiya and Shaina off on an imaginary and therefore lengthy errand. It really was hard to believe that this funny, charming person was the wielder of the agonizing Scarlet Needle attack.

Mu's musing was interrupted when the white-haired trainee – whose name, it appeared, was Billy, and whose breath could have been lit and used as a blowtorch – staggered up to him and began an interminable and incomprehensible story that seemed to be about drinking. Or repairing some sort of machinery, Mu really had no idea. He pretended to pay polite attention to the ramble, listening with half a smile and nodding from time to time as he watched Shiryu, who appeared had been cornered by an extremely enthusiastic Silver Saint. From time to time Shiryu's eyes would meet Mu's, and Mu paid less and less attention to anything else in the room. Which was a mistake, as the white-haired, multiply-pierced trainee suddenly lurched forward in a squelch of leather and latched his mouth to Mu's in a sloppy, fumy, scratchy kiss.

Mu pulled back in panic, pushed his unsteady admirer away, and escaped to the library. Without bothering to turn on the light or close the door he sat on the couch in the dark, uncharacteristically agitated. His first kiss, and it had come from a drunken stranger! He hoped no one had noticed.

He heard soft footsteps in the hall. Damn! What if it was that trainee? Mu jumped up and almost ran across the room, hoping to close and bolt the door before whoever it was could enter, but an instant later Shaka appeared.

"So?" the Virgo Saint asked imperiously. "What was it like?" He threw the wall switch, flooding the room with the harsh overhead light.

Mu, squinting and shielding his eyes with his hand, said "Shaka!" then, composing himself, he added, "It hardly qualified as a kiss."

"You have other experience in it then? Has Milo kissed you often?"

"Never!" Mu said. "Why are you asking such questions?"

Shaka then did something that Mu never expected. He turned red. Just his ears and neck, but it was undeniably a blush. "I have developed a curiosity about these things," Shaka said, handling his words like bombs. "I wish to expand my understanding of the human condition. So I thought that – " he faltered, "that you could tell me what it was like."

"Why not just ask Milo to kiss you?" Mu asked, trying to be patient. "He probably would."

"Oh no, that would not be acceptable," Shaka said with his usual haughtiness. "But I would be willing to kiss with _you_."

"Oh?" Mu wasn't sure whether to be flattered or insulted. "I don't know anything about it either."

"How difficult could it be?" Shaka said, stepping forward so that Mu was forced to back up into the library. "Humans do it all the time, without lessons, it seems."

"Shaka," Mu said with some exasperation, "you're human too." But he shrugged. He might as well; Shaka was his friend. If it would have been his first kiss he would have refused, but the second kiss didn't have to be anything special. If nothing else it would blur the feel and taste of Billy. "Alright, if it will help."

Without waiting for Mu to move Shaka leaned in. His lips were thin and dry, and it had just occurred to Mu that Billy's wet enthusiasm was preferable to this prim, clinical contact when Milo appeared in the doorway with several boisterous people behind him. Someone let out a whoop.

Shaka fled. Milo rushed into the room to close and bolt the library door against the muffled voices yelling, "C'mon, don't stop! Let us in! It's as good as watching two girls!"

After a minute or so of pounding, the crowd got bored and left.

"Well." Milo said, turning to face Mu with a grin. "So much for your reputation as Mu the Chaste." His boot heels clicked as he sauntered after Mu, who had backed up towards the couch. "One minute I look up, you're kissing Billy. The next thing I know you're kissing Shaka. Are you giving out kisses to everyone who asks, then? If so, it seems like _you're_ the slut of Sanctuary, not me."

"That boy – Billy – kissed me. I wasn't expecting it."

"Of course." Milo gave a feline smile as he followed him, trailing his hand along the arm of the couch.

"He was also drunk." Mu moved around to the front of the couch.

"True. So was Shaka drunk too?"

"No," Mu said evenly, "he was just curious to know what kissing is like."

"Shaka? Curious? About kissing? Really." Mu could almost hear Milo filing this savory fact away. "What I don't understand," Milo said, swinging first one and then the other long, blue-leather clad leg over the back of the couch, "is why you would accept kisses from either of them when you're in love with neither?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You know, it's funny," Milo said, taking a break from stalking Mu to shake his hair out of his eyes. "People think because I like to have fun I'm shallow and not very smart. That's a great disguise, not being taken seriously. People do and say things in front of me as if I wasn't there. My body distracts them so much they never realize that I'm taking in every detail. Posture, facial expression, where people's glances go, to what – or who."

"So?"

"That's how I know you're hopelessly infatuated with someone you won't let yourself – corrupt." Milo swayed a bit, and Mu realized that the Scorpio Saint was more than a little drunk. "It's funny, almost everyone here tonight is carrying a little secret love for someone." Milo laughed. "Except most of you are lucky enough to love someone who's still alive."

Mu felt a chill.

"Aw, listen to me, being all depressing! Forget that! Let's have some fun!" Milo jumped off the couch, landing so close that Mu could feel the heat radiating from his body. Milo put his hands lightly on Mu's waist and whispered in his ear, "Maybe I ought to give you some lessons, so that you're ready to take the initiative once Shiryu's legal?"

Mu, filled with cold fury, pushed Milo away. "What I think or feel is none of your business. And yes, I'm naive, but you are the _last_ person I wish to be instructed by. You're not capable of understanding the kind of pure love I feel."

"Is that so?" Milo seemed highly amused by Mu's outburst.

This added even more fuel to Mu's anger, and prevented him from censoring his next words, aware even as he said them how cruel they were. "Perhaps it's a good thing for Camus that he died. At least he's finally freed from your unwanted attentions."

Milo's face went white, and he turned away. "I'm honored that you finally decided to tell me what you're _really_ thinking." Without further comment he left.

Mu, still stunned at the intensity of his own reaction, could think of nothing else to do other than to go to sleep. For once, he decided not to bolt the door.

.

When he woke up the next morning, he found a note in Milo's sloppy scrawl taped to his door. "Something's come up suddenly and I'll be away for a while. You'll have the place all to yourself – have fun."

_._

_._

(43) 8 Mar 2010


	7. Bedtime Stories

.

It's not always clear whether dramatic events are the cause or the result of a turn in the tide, but at any rate change usually follows them.

Milo's party was no exception. In the days that followed everyone in Sanctuary – even those with hangovers – released a collective breath, beginning to heal emotionally from the previous months' events. Everyone smiled more, walked with a lighter step. Even the workers re-constructing Aries Temple picked up their pace: the walls and outer columns seemed to fly into position, the portico was completed, and work on the roof commenced.

The first few days that Milo was gone Mu enjoyed the quiet, but soon he found himself beginning to miss their exchanges, as rude as they had been. Each evening when he arrived back at Scorpio Temple he looked for signs of Milo's return, but day after day there were none.

Had "something" really come up? No one mentioned Milo being on a mission, and so he began to fear that he had driven Milo away. Remorse began to gnaw at him. Yes, Milo's comment had been boorish, but his response had been inordinately cruel, striking at Milo himself. Sleepless, Mu tossed with guilt each night and began to look forward to Milo's return so that he could apologize. After trying the symbolic gesture of sleeping with his door unbolted, he finally tried the even more symbolic gesture of sleeping in Milo's bed.

It worked: he woke from a deep and unbroken slumber to find he had slept through the morning and into the early afternoon. But he was alone in the bed, and there was still no sign of Milo.

Unusually hungry, he decided to venture into Milo's refrigerator in search of something to eat. Milo had often told him to "Help himself," but he'd never done so, preferring to eat his single meal of the day with Aldebaraan. Now he peered in: leftover food from the party on the top shelf, cans and bottles of beer and wine on the bottom, and on the middle shelf, several flat packages wrapped in paper and over a dozen white carryout boxes and tubs. He picked up a round one and peered at the writing on the lid. It looked like "momo." The package was dated weeks ago, but the tape across the lid was intact. He broke it, and looked inside. It did indeed contain Tibetan meatballs, although they were now furred with mold.

He opened another package, and another, and another, feeling worse and worse. Bean pancakes. Wrapped discs of yak butter. _Tsam-po, kongpo shaptak_ , dried salted fish, _tukpa_ , several varieties of tofu. Even sweet treats like _juema_ and _sukarni_. It looked like the entire middle shelf had been filled with purchases from import and vegetarian shops, although almost everything was spoiled beyond edibility. A large container of beet soup had congealed into fermented jelly: a half-circle of mold around the rim scolded him like a frown.

Mu winced. Milo had bought all this as a result of their conversation about Tibetan foods the day of the sunbathing on the roof. All this food, purchased specially ... and he'd never taken a single bite. Every time Milo'd opened his refrigerator the untouched packages would have been a visual reminder of how Mu was rejecting his ... his hospitality. Because, while he had certainly provided many lascivious comments and risque sights, he was also a good host. Mu looked at the ruined feast, wondering when he'd become such a poor judge of character. Didn't he know better than to take the outer mask for the inner person? He should have listened to Aldebaraan, who had been right about Milo. Mu put the packages back in the refrigerator and went down to Taurus Temple.

"Ahh!" In the early dusk, the Taurus Saint's wide smile gleamed. "What a pleasant surprise, I didn't think I'd see you today. Did you notice? They got half your roof up today! You're almost ready to go home."

Mu nodded. "That is good news."

'What's wrong?" Aldebaraan put his hand on Mu's shoulder. "Did something happen? You've been looking tired and stressed lately, I've been worried about you." His eyes, as always, were warm and kind.

Mu sighed. "I have a confession to make." He unburdened himself, starting the tale with the kisses at the party, continuing with his confrontation with Milo, describing finding the food, and ending by saying, "I don't know what I can say to Milo when he gets back. My behavior goes beyond a simple apology."

Unexpectedly, Aldebaraan said, "Gets back?"

"Yes, from wherever he went after the party."

Aldebaraan shook his head, "Milo didn't leave Sanctuary. He's been staying in Aquarius Temple."

The rising moon followed Mu as he ran up the stairs and entered Aquarius Temple, his cosmo cloaked. He told himself it was in case Milo had company. He really hoped that he didn't.

A small place, it didn't take long to find a room spilling light. Mu moved silently down the corridor and into the doorway. A man wearing blue pajamas and glasses sat in the bed, a book face-down in his lap. One hand was out of sight under the covers; the other was up, Scarlet Needle at the ready. When he saw Mu a series of emotions flickered across his face: confusion, elation, defensiveness, anger, and finally a carefully neutral expression.

"I am surprised," Mu said. "You do not seem like the type that would wear pajamas."

Milo looked at him steadily, and then put down his hand, the Scarlet Needle fading. "There might be a lot of things about me that would surprise you." His glasses flashed as he turned back to his book.

Awkwardness trapped Mu in a silent web. "I didn't know you needed glasses."

"I don't," Milo said, taking them off. "They're plain glass. I like wearing them when I'm reading." He shrugged. "It helps me concentrate." He folded the earpieces down carefully before putting the glasses on the bedside table next to a stack of books.

"Mind if I sit down?" Mu was determined to thaw the chill.

"If you like," Milo said, his expression wary. As Mu made to sit down on the edge of the bed next to him he said curtly, "Not there. You'll sit on Sylvie."

"Sylvie?"

Milo lifted the hand that was under the covers, and jerked his head to indicate that Mu should look. When Mu peered under the blanket two eyes flashed at him: Milo lifted the blanket a bit higher and Mu could see that it was a large cat with velvety gray fur, lying contentedly against Milo's side.

"I've tried to get her to come live with me, but she won't leave." He said to Sylvie, not looking at Mu, "I'll bet you're waiting for him to come back, aren't you? Stupid cat."

Mu didn't know how to respond to the emotion in Milo's voice, so he went to the foot of the bed and sat.

Milo let the blankets fall and looked up suddenly. "You missed me."

"Yes, I did." Mu was determined to pass whatever barriers Milo put in his way.

"No one to look down on from your morally superior mountaintop?" Milo said; then, before Mu could reply, "Sorry. That wasn't fair."

"You could have said much worse." Mu said, putting as much olive branch into it as he could.

Milo looked at him. "Yes, I could have said something about crushes on young men. Let's call it even?"

Mu nodded gratefully. Milo's pajamas, he noticed, were made of thick flannel, with a pattern of stylized snowflakes. They didn't seem to fit Milo's character.

Milo noticed Mu's look, thought for a minute, and then said simply, "I bought them for him a long time ago. He never mentioned wearing them, but I guess he did, because – " He lifted and bent his arm to demonstrate where the fabric over the elbow had worn thin and torn. He then brought the sleeve up against his nose. "They still smell like him. Good thing he didn't have time to do laundry before the Bronzes came through." He reached back under the covers to pet Sylvie.

Mu knew that the conversation could easily spiral down into a dark, miserable place, so he changed the subject. "What were you reading?"

Milo picked up the book with his free hand. "David Hume. Has this whole thing about the senses being the source of reality. He's not big on objectivity."

"Hume? A philosopher?"

"You seem surprised," Milo said, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "You didn't think I was the philosophy type either, did you?"

Mu's first impulse was to lie and deny it but he realized that to do so was a double insult. "No, I didn't."

Milo tilted his head. "So who did you think all those books in my library belonged to?"

Mu shrugged lightly. "A previous Scorpion Saint?" He felt compelled to add, "The dust was very misleading. It seemed like no one had been in there for years."

Milo's face became somber. "I must have left the flue open."

"Flue?"

"There's a fireplace. Probably hidden now behind stacks of books." He looked down and smoothed the coverlet. "We used to sit in there and read. But – " He stopped. "Camus read mostly poetry," he said after a moment, "and novels. Rimbaud, Flaubert, Proust, Zola. Modern works like Barjavel, Amélie Nothomb, Jean Ray."

Mu had no idea who those authors were but nodded anyhow.

"When I was first getting to know him I thought his reading all that depravity and wild emotions was compensating for something missing inside of him. But I realized that was wrong. It wasn't because he didn't have those feelings, it was that they were so intense that he didn't know how to handle them. So he froze them." Milo gave a half-shrug. "The stories were a safety valve. Safely experience those things through the characters. If -"

Mu waited. When Milo didn't continue he prompted quietly, "If what?"

"If only there had been more time." Milo began. "He was so serious. I just wanted to – " Milo shrugged. "He knew how I felt." He folded his arms, his fingers playing absently with the frayed hole in the pajama sleeve. "I could do and say pretty much anything to him in public. He didn't give a rat's ass if people thought we were lovers – but when we were alone – if I stood too close he'd tense up. Still, as he didn't avoid me I was willing to accept any limitations just to be near him. Pathetic, isn't it?"

Mu shook his head. "No, I understand it completely."

"A few weeks – before – we were on that couch reading. He always sat at one end of the couch, like a businessman on a train. As usual I was sitting at the other end, with my feet on the couch. That day he turned the page of his book – and then he put his hand down on my foot. And he _left_ it there." Milo's voice shook. "I can still remember exactly how it felt. The heel of his hand and four little cold spots from his fingertips. He'd pick up his hand to turn each page, but then he'd put it back on my foot again, like it naturally belonged there. It made me so happy." Milo rubbed his face. "It wouldn't be much to most people. But for him – for Camus to touch anyone – another man – _me_ – it was so unexpected. I couldn't help but think that if I was very patient maybe someday I could get him to stay the night in my bed. Not for sex, just sleeping. Because I wanted to wake up next to him, just once. Just _once._ " Milo shrugged. "Then things got busy, I got sent off on assignment ... and when I came back we were on alert, and then the Bronze rebels came though, and after that ..."

"There were no more chances," Mu said gently. He realized that this was the real Milo. Someone he had hurt. "I owe you an apology. What I said the night of the party was wrong."

"Oh?"

"I can see that you _do_ understand pure love."

Milo looked at him. "Apology accepted," he said quietly. "I wonder which of us is more miserable, me or you," Milo said in a lighter tone, in an obvious attempt to divert the conversation. "We both love someone who's out of reach, and for a while I thought that you had the better deal, because Shiryu is alive, right in front of you half the time. And I can see that he likes you and respects you. It's even possible he has some attraction to you – "

"Why do you say that?" Mu interjected.

"I was watching the two of you during the party," Milo said. "As I told you, I don't miss much. The way that he looked at you and talked to you ... maybe there is some chance that when he gets older something will happen for you." Milo raised a finger in admonition. "On the other hand, if you keep waiting and hoping for something that might never happen you tend to ignore all the other chances around you.

"So now, I think I'm better off than you," Milo concluded. "I've accepted that being with Camus is impossible, because he's dead. I can move on."

"And this moving on," Mu asked dubiously, "means sexual relations with as many people as possible? Does that really help?"

"No one will ever take his place." Milo was stern. "But being with someone, even for a few hours – it helps a little. It warms me up for a little while, if I can make someone else laugh or feel joy or pleasure." He shrugged. "Plus, it's a rush when you can get someone to beg for more. Or scream your name a dozen times."

Mu shook his head in amazement at Milo's changeability: the Scorpio Saint was a kaleidoscope of emotion.

"Look, there's a lot of different ways to be with someone," Milo continued. "There's the Romantic, violin music and orchestras, the big passion with the love of your life, but there's also the I'll-explode-if-I-don't bone-something kind. Then, you really don't _want_ to know your partner as a person, because that is a waste of time."

"How, how," Mu was at a loss for a word, "how _efficient_." He wondered if there was a third category in Milo's classification system.

Milo said slyly, "But you know, there's friendship sex too. Relaxed. No strings, no drama, just mutual fun with someone you know and like and can trust."

"Fun? You sound like Aldebaraan."

"Aldebaraan?" Milo's eyebrows went up. "I was going to mention him, actually."

"From the first he's been urging me to experience sleeping with you. He said I'd benefit from it. "

"He said that, huh?" Milo's eyes sparkled. "I'll be damned. What a guy." Milo looked thoughtful. "Mu, did it ever occur to you – oh well, never mind. Now I'm curious to know what Shaka has to say about me. Don't deny that he talks to you about me."

"Shaka ..." Mu thought back. "At first he warned me about you, said I should resist and avoid you. Then he said I should acquiesce, but not react or or show enjoyment. He questions me almost daily about the details of our interactions, and seems disappointed when there is nothing to report."

"Hm," Milo said. "And we all thought he was above all that ... it makes sense though, when you add in his request to you for practice kissing."

Mu's eyes widened. "It does? How?"

Milo scratched his ear. "I'm guessing, but it sounds to me like the man closest to God is interested in getting close to something – or someone – else. I always had the impression before that Shaka would never sleep with anyone unless he was ordered to, but I saw some little things at the party that made me wonder ... I could be wrong, though: that night I also had my hands full with two of the trainees." Milo's voice switched into lighthearted mode. "Trying to avoid having my hands full of two trainees. I'm more of a traditionalist. Three-ways are not my style."

Mu realized, at that moment, that he very much liked being around Milo. "I'm sorry about the food," he said suddenly.

"The food?"

"All the things you bought. It was very thoughtful. It was rude of me not to have eaten any."

"Oh, no need to apologize." Milo put his head down, and Mu saw with shock that he seemed to be embarrassed. "It wasn't a big deal."

After that, neither of them seemed to have anything more to say, so Mu stood to go. "Will you come back to Scorpio Temple soon? It is much too empty without you."

Milo nodded.

"Thank you." Mu walked quickly to the door, but as he did he heard Milo say, "OK Sylvie, keep the bed warm for me." He turned, to see Milo next to the bed, carefully tucking the blankets into a half-nest around the gray cat now regally enthroned on Camus's pillow.

"You're coming back _now_?"" Mu asked. "In your pajamas?"

Milo turned to Mu with a smile. "Sure, why not? C'mon, roomie, let's go home."

They descended the stairs and passed through the intervening temples in silence.

In the main corridor to Scorpio Temple one of them said, "I'll leave you alone then."

The reply was, "Tonight, I don't want that."

And the other, surprised, said, "Neither do I."

All in all, it turned out to be quite an amazing evening.

_._

_._

(43) 8 Mar 2010


	8. Lessons Learned

.

When you both want the same thing, does it matter who moves first?

They walked down the main passageway toward Milo's room without speaking. At the spot where the side corridor branched off toward the library, Mu paused. Milo looked at him questioningly, and if Mu had had any doubts they vanished at the look in Milo's eyes. This was no heartless seducer. This was a lonely person braced for rejection.

"My pajamas," Mu said simply.

"OK," Milo said. "I'll wait."

Mu went to the library. As he swiftly changed into the old tunic and leggings he slept in he had to admit that he too was looking forward to the simple pleasure of sleeping next to someone, even if it wasn't Shiryu.

There was awkwardness and not-quite-looking at each other as they got into opposite sides of the bed, but it vanished as Milo turned on his side and spooned back against Mu, pulling the Aries Saint's arm over and across his body.

As they drifted off to sleep Mu could have sworn that Milo was purring.

.

When Mu woke sunlight from a hidden skylight was filling the room with dawn's soft glow. For a moment he thought he was in Jamir again, close to Shiryu's warmth, his lips against hair as coarse and black as raven feathers … but no, the hair next to his face was bright blue-violet.

Surprisingly, he found lying next to Milo quite pleasant. Did it always feel like this, he wondered, to be so close to someone? For a moment his thoughts drifted to other people that he knew who it might be agreeable to wake next to.

He was thirsty, and so eased out of bed and filled a glass from the bathroom tap. He yawned noiselessly as he turned off the light. It seemed early enough that he could go back to sleep.

But as he approached the bed he saw that Milo was awake, watching him with a faint smile. "Coming back?"

"I thought I might sleep some more," Mu said. As he got under the covers he noticed that Milo, who now had "that look," was no longer wearing the blue snowflake pajamas. Feeling entirely self-conscious, Mu lay on his back, pulled the blanket up to his chin, and started to close his eyes.

Milo gave a noisy yawn, stretched his arm high, brought it down across Mu's chest, pulled him onto his side, and kissed him.

Now, neither of the kisses Mu had received the night of Milo's party had been enjoyable. He'd wondered at the time if it had been because he was unprepared for them, or if kissing was something that only humans responded to. Since the party he had tended toward the second theory. He realized now that he'd been wrong; they hadn't been enjoyable because they hadn't been very good. Billy's inebriated one had been wet and sloppy, while Shaka's had been dry and uninvolved. Both made him want to wipe his mouth off afterwards. Milo's, on the other hand … his lips were firmer than Billy's, fuller than Shaka's, with an assertive pressure that was intense and yet not frightening, and a subtle, rhythmic variation in pressure and position that made Mu feel both very relaxed and yet very awake … and very, very warm. When Milo finally pulled away Mu murmured, "Kissing?" as if confirming that this was really considered the same activity as what he'd experienced before.

"Yeah," Milo said softly, giving Mu's shoulder a gentle squeeze, "kissing." His blue eyes looked very dark in the rosy light. "Best way to start starting the day."

Mu pulled him back.

.

Thirty minutes later an observer of the scene would have seen a not-entirely-unexpected sight. Mu was motionless, his eyes closed, his breath coming in shallow bursts through parted, slightly swollen lips. Milo was propped up on one elbow next to him, looking inordinately pleased.

Milo knew full well that he could kiss people into mindlessness – he'd done it more than once – but it was always gratifying to see the result. He slipped his hand inside Mu's tunic and brushed his fingertips across a nipple. "Still awake?"

Mu hissed and edged away.

"It didn't feel good for you?" Milo pulled his hand back quickly.

"It, it, how can it – ?" Mu seemed distressed. "The sensation – I wash my chest when I bathe, but never had this – !"

"It's usually different if someone else is doing something to you than if you do it to yourself," Milo said.

Mu's brow furrowed. "Why would you even think to touch me there?"

"Because I like it," Milo said easily, then holding up his forefinger like a teacher, continued, "First Milo Principle: Most of the time people will usually do to you what they enjoy having done to them." At the look in Mu's solemn green eyes he added, "It's OK if you didn't like it."

"I didn't say I didn't like it," Mu said with the faintest hint of asperity, "I just wasn't prepared for it." He sat up, pulled off his tunic, and then lay back down. "I am prepared now. Please continue. Teach me more of your principles."

Suppressing a laugh, Milo rubbed his palm over Mu's chest, then squeezed a nub between thumb and forefinger. "Well, as I was saying, it's a good bet that if someone does something to you, they'll like it if you do it to them." He twisted very slightly.

Mu brought his hand up to conscientiously imitate what Milo was doing. Milo caught his wrist to stop him. "Principle number two is that anything that feels good with the fingers feels even better when the mouth gets involved. Let me demonstrate."

At the first touch Mu gave a gasp, but after a few seconds he put his hand tentatively on the back of the Scorpio Saint's head, as if worried that Milo would lose his place. "Yes ... I see," he whispered.

Milo worked his way back up to Mu's mouth again, and then meandered from throat to ear to shoulder, his reward a chain of small, almost inaudible "ah" sounds as Mu's cosmo began to shift from ultraviolet towards the infrared. Milo rolled onto his side, taking Mu with him, and began to stroke the Aries Saint's back, finally slipping his hand under the waistband of the leggings and over the mysterious scar at the base of Mu's spine.

The result was instantaneous. Mu gave a growl and rolled on top of him, pushing him down in a ferocious counterkiss. Milo brought his other hand around to caress the smooth, crescent-shaped mark, and in moments the normally placid Aries Saint was straining against him, even going so far as to hook his legs around Milo's to pull their bodies together more tightly. Apparently, it wasn't an ordinary scar.

"What do you say," Milo asked, panting happily when Mu finally stopped to breathe, "that you get rid of the rest of your pajamas?" To his delight Mu immediately rolled off the bed and stripped.

When Milo had seen Mu's body on the roof, there had been nothing more than a slight bulge in his apparently sexless groin. Now the skin in that area was stretched tight over lumps and a substantial ridge. Milo cupped his hand over it. "Any way this can come out and play?" The skin, completely hairless, felt tough and leathery. He could feel whatever was beneath it shifting and pulsing against his palm.

"No," Mu said, still standing by the side of the bed. Without Milo's hands on his _occasus_ he had calmed a bit, though his skin was flushed and his breathing was irregular. "Not without the beckoning scent from a female. Is it important?"

Milo shrugged. "I would have liked to give you head."

"Head? Is that another principle? What is it then?" After listening to Milo's somewhat rambling description Mu asked, "And it is _that_ enjoyable?"

"Definitely." At Mu's look he said, "You don't believe me?"

Mu shrugged delicately.

"Come here." Milo sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Mu within reach, then put his mouth over the most prominent ridge and sucked as if he could draw it through the skin.

Mu made an odd noise and gripped Milo's shoulders, his body tense.

"Did that hurt?" Milo asked, stroking Mu's hip.

"No," Mu said with a catch in his voice, then cleared his throat, "No, it was … pleasantly uncomfortable. You find this gratifying? What other things do you find enjoyable?"

"There's," Milo felt oddly reluctant to use any of his usual terms. "Intercourse."

"And how is that accomplished?" Mu's expression was one of mild curiosity.

Milo's eyes widened. "You seriously don't know?"

Without a scrap of irony, Mu said, "Human sexuality wasn't part of my training. My Master died when I was seven, and I didn't have much contact with humans in Tibet."

"So then, you don't know how to, you know, with your own kind?"

"Couple with my own people? Oh yes, I know how that is accomplished. Roshi told me – "

"Roshi?" Milo grinned. "Oh really? He's knowledgeable about the topic of coupling with your people, is he?"

"Why do you ask?" Mu's eyes narrowed.

Milo shook his head. "Never mind. I should never underestimate the things the Old Master knows. So Roshi told you, what, exactly?" he prompted, putting his hand over his mouth in mock attentiveness.

"That a receptive female would have a certain fragrance, and smelling it would thin my _tegimen_ enough for the _cuspis_ to break through. And then instinctive behaviors would guide our actions."

"Break through?" Milo winced and repeated, " _Break through_? You mean, break through the skin?" His hand dropped protectively to his lap.

"I assume so."

It occurred to Milo that it was a wonder, not that Mu's race was dying out, but that it had survived so long in the first place. "So it's based on pheromones? No scent, no – mating?"

Mu nodded. "It is different for humans?"

Milo nodded emphatically. "Damn _right_ it's different."

"Perhaps because your organ is always unsheathed?" Mu asked with innocent curiosity, looking down into the folds of sheet pooled in Milo's lap.

Milo rubbed the back of his neck. "Probably."

"That state must make it easier for two males to mate."

"Well, easier than it would be for your people."

"How is it accomplished?"

Milo explained.

After pondering the explanation Mu said, "I see. And where is this orifice?"

With a small, slightly self-conscious laugh, Milo leaned back, spread his legs, and pointed. "Isn't yours the same?"

Mu peered. "Mine is ... different, I think."

Milo blinked in surprise. "Well, now you have to show me yours."

.

_Five minutes later..._

"Alright, well, hm, so that's – well, that might not be an option for you then."

Mu frowned. "Are there no other activities?"

"Oh sure, there are a lot of other things that you could do with your lover," Milo said with a small frown.

"Will you teach me those principles as well?" Mu asked.

"I think first we should figure out all the things that feel good for you."

"That's of no use," Mu said dismissively.

"Oh? Why not?"

"My," Mu faltered, "My enjoyment would be of no concern. Only my partner's."

"No, you're completely wrong about that," Milo said firmly. "Letting your lover please you is very important, but you have to let them know what you like. That spot on your back – is that how you get off?" He added, at Mu's blank look, "Orgasm? Uh, when you touch yourself until it feels so good you can't stand it?" He could see that the Aries Saint was at a loss. "You really _aren't_ human, are you?" he asked rhetorically.

Mu shook his head. "No."

"OK," Milo said. "Don't worry about it. That spot on your back – ?"

" _Occasus_ ," Mu said.

"Your _occasus_ – you knew it would feel good if I touched it. You rub yourself there, right?"

Mu mumbled, "No, the pleasurable sensation only occurs if someone else touches it."

"I see." Milo stretched his legs out and scooted back against the headboard, then patted his thighs. "Sit on me, here."

Mu climbed onto the bed, straddled, and sat gingerly. Milo watched him intently but did nothing. After a moment Mu asked, "Another principle?"

"Yes," Milo just smiled.

"When will you start, then?" Mu was becoming irritated.

"I've already started," Milo said. He kept watching, then added, "I never noticed before, but now I have to agree with Deathmask. You _do_ look even hotter when you start to get pissed off."

"I will not tolerate this," Mu said, and made to get off the bed.

"Don't leave." Milo put his hands lightly on Mu's hips to stop him. "Don't leave. You know, for some people it's easy to give love to someone, to make love to them," he said quietly, "but not so easy to be the recipient. To let your lover please you, worship you, just as you would them."

Mu asked sharply, "This is a principle?"

"Yes," Milo said. "one of the most important ones, and it's your biggest problem, Mu. You'll deprive any lover of more than half the pleasure you could have together because you're so unselfish it's selfish." He pulled Mu a bit closer. "Your task now is to accept what I'm going to do to you and let yourself enjoy it." He slid his hands under the mass of Mu's hair to his back and began moving his fingertips in small, elaborate swirls.

"You have a great deal of confidence in your erotic abilities, it seems." Mu shifted slightly, glaring at Milo even as his breathing quickened.

"It's justified."

Mu was clearly struggling to keep his pride above his growing enjoyment of Milo's touch. When he reflexively inched closer to Milo, he stopped himself, moved back a bit, clenching his jaw.

"Don't be so stubborn," Milo murmured, leaning forward to let his lips trace arabesques over the pale skin of Mu's chest.

"I," Mu gasped, "I ... let me do this for you." He tried to pull the sheet away from Milo's lap. "Give you my head."

Milo caught Mu's hands. "Ah, ah, ah! Such a poor student. This is about you, not me." He added, "Maybe you can do that later, if you want." He pressed his fingers a little harder against Mu's _occasus_ , scratching lightly with his nails.

Mu, thwarted, shuddered and then surrendered, melting against Milo as the Scorpio Saint continued strumming and massaging and scratching lightly. Like a musical instrument he responded to Milo's virtuoso touch, progressing from squirming to writhing, his soft gasps becoming louder and less restrained. Milo could have gone on for a while but Mu hit a crescendo, bucking convulsively as he groaned and then slumped sideways, unconscious.

"Well," Milo said softly. "That's a gratifying. I don't make them pass out too often." He eased Mu gently to the bed, smoothed his hair, then pulled a sheet around him and went off to wash up.

.

"Your reputation does not honor you enough," Mu deadpanned an hour later when he had recovered. He and Milo, dressed in light robes, were inventorying the refrigerator.

"My reputation?" Milo, pretending to be offended, was secretly pleased. "What about yours?"

Mu raised what passed for an eyebrow. "I have no 'reputation'." He opened a container, coughed, and quickly replaced the lid.

"Sure you do," Milo said. His part in the cleanup consisted of sitting on the counter above the wastebasket, drinking a beer, and providing goalposts whenever Mu threw anything in the wastebasket. "All the upper houses were sure that you and Shaka – "

"Shaka – !" Mu protested.

"- get up to all sorts of games in his garden."

"We go there to meditate!" Mu huffed. Milo stretched out his legs, and Mu tossed the container.

Milo grinned. "Of course you do." He took another sip of beer, his eyes twinkling.

"I'm serious!" Mu said.

Milo swung his legs. "You know," he said, "I first came on to you for all the wrong reasons. Not that I wouldn't have minded seducing you that night in your bedroom, but really, I didn't care if we did or not. I just wanted the others to think we did."

"So that you could increase your total?" Mu asked without rancor.

"Not exactly. If I was just into high numbers, I wouldn't go after someone like you. Your type takes too much work and time. I could have gone to clubs in the city and had – well, I could have had warm bodies coming out of my ass, if you know what I mean." He set down his beer.

"Yes, I do," Mu said wryly. "Thanks to your vivid explanations." He tossed a package to Milo. "Your turn to smell something."

"But I didn't want that. At first I just wanted the status of having the others think I had." Milo said as he unwrapped the long flat package, " _Ouf_ , Mu, this fish is almost ready to swim again." He quickly dropped it between his feet.

"And after you saw my body, you wanted to see what sex with me would be like." Mu said as he bent to gather up the packages at the very back of the shelf.

"Yeah, or if it was even possible ..." Milo said absently, his eyes travelling over the robe stretched tight across his roommate's backside. At Mu's snort he added, "Well, OK, at least I'm admitting it. But don't make a mistake and think it was just some 'hump the sideshow freak' kink. I was attracted to you before I saw you naked."

Mu shook his head as he emerged from the refrigerator. "You have such a unique way of describing things."

"See," Milo went on, "as I got to know you, a strange and infuriating individual, I got to like you. I wanted to be your friend."

"I'm not checking these," Mu said, referring to the double handful of soggy packages he'd retrieved.

"Fine by me if you deep six 'em," Milo said, then, "That means throw them out." As he watched Mu drop the last of the food into the trash he said, "And I also I started to want _you_. But after the party – well, I hadn't realized until then how much you disliked me. Don't deny it, I know that's how you felt."

Mu, who had pushed up his sleeves and was washing his hands, nodded, "I won't deny it. At that time I did dislike you."

"So why did you put up with it?"

"With what?"

"You knew I was after you."

"At first," Mu said, drying his hands, "as Shaka suggested, I simply wanted to thwart you and deflate your ego. However, after I saw the person on the other side of your mask, I realized that I had been wrong, That I had underestimated or misunderstood you. And then I also came to wish friendship with you."

"Mu," Milo's voice was thoughtful. "has it ever occurred to you that everything I've said and done since the beginning – even my honesty – has just been part of a plan to -"

"Get in my Cloth?" Mu suggested wryly. "Yes, has occurred to me."

"It did?" Milo was surprised. "Then why – ?"

"Oh," Mu asked mischievously, "Are you admitting that too?" He added, "No matter. It was my decision to stay here. And I did resist you long enough to keep my reputation intact. But Aldebaraan was right." He folded the towel, then put his hand unselfconsciously on Milo's thigh. "Being with you this morning was pleasurable. Instructional as well."

"Now all you need to do," Milo said, putting his hand over Mu's, "is to find someone to practice the principles with."

"Your lesson, while very enjoyable, was of dubious value," Mu said matter-of-factly. "There's little chance of such a scenario between myself and Shiryu. He will never be interested in looking at or touching me that way."

"You shouldn't ever say never," Milo said, "but you know him better than I do, so you're probably right. What you should do is find someone _else_ who you're comfortable with, who you like spending time with. Someone who you'd enjoy going to bed with if they asked you."

"Such as yourself?"

"Well, me ... or someone else," Milo said.

"Do you have someone in mind?"

"I'm just saying, you ought to be open to whatever comes up." Milo jumped down from the counter, kissed Mu quickly, and then patted his shoulder. "C'mon, let's get dressed and go grocery shopping. Are _momo_ good for lunch?"

_._

_._

(43) 8 Mar 2010


	9. Wakeup Call

.

Mu moved back into the restored Aries Temple the next day with mixed feelings. He was back at his station as the first line of Sanctuary's defense, but from the moment he stepped inside the Temple it didn't quite feel quite right. Too quiet, too empty, too impersonal.

It didn't feel like – _home._

It was odd. He'd hadn't minded being alone in Tibet, where months would go by with little more than the sound of his own heartbeat. Now, he was startled to realize how quickly he'd become accustomed to – and how much he now missed – the background noise of life in Scorpio Temple. The thudding of the water pipes when hot water came through. The rumble of the television, conducted through the thick stone walls. The fluting wind in the fireplace. The muted, subsonic hum of the refrigerator.

"You don't look happy," Aldebaraan said, filling the doorway. He was holding something behind his back.

Mu smiled. As always, it was good to see the friendly face with its crooked boxer's nose. "I think it will take a while before this Temple feels like my home again."

"It's that new marble smell," Aldebaraan joked, stepping inside. "You need something to counteract it." He brought his hands around: in them was a huge bunch of wild herbs – sage and myrtle and heather and lemongrass. "If this doesn't help, we can bring in something stronger. Like a few goats, or Aiolia's laundry."

Mu laughed. "You are – a good friend, Aldebaraan of Taurus. There is no one in Sanctuary whose company I enjoy more."

A shadow flickered across Aldebaraan's face. "I'm glad we can be friends," he said somberly, then, suddenly awkward, he turned to go. "I'm helping Marin and Shaina with the weight training today."

After he left Mu put the rest of his few possessions away, donned his Cloth, and sat on the windowsill overlooking the training ground. Much of being a Saint was being "on guard," and usually he fell into the state of intense, meditative alertness easily, but today he felt out of sorts and the day crawled. He tried to read some of the Pali book ("You can borrow any of _my_ books as long as you like," Milo had said, with pointed emphasis on the word "my") but by late afternoon the silence in his Temple had become oppressive.

What did he want to do?

His eyes fell on the armload of green on the table. He wanted company.

He ran up the stairs to Taurus. A folded piece of paper with his name on it was pinned to the lintel post. Inside it read, "At a soccer game (Brazil playing). Back late. See you tomorrow."

Mu was quite disappointed.

He went to bed early, but his sheets, crisp and starchy from the package, irritated him. He missed the feel and smell of the bedding at Milo's. He missed other things, too. He wanted someone to sleep next to. He wondered what Milo was doing. He lay awake most of the night, staring at his ceiling. Near dawn he finally gave up on the attempt to sleep and dressed. He'd meet Aldebaraan for a morning workout.

The Taurus Saint had a guest. As Mu walked into the back rooms of Taurus Temple he saw tall man in a red silk robe preparing Greek coffee on Aldebaraan's kerosene camp stove. The dark-haired, broad-shouldered stranger seemed very at home. Who was he, Mu wondered, and what was he doing here so early?

Than it hit him. Of course. This person had been an _overnight_ guest. He had probably slept in Alde's bed. He had ... probably slept _with_ Alde. The thought made Mu feel mildly hurt. Why hadn't Aldebaraan said anything about having a lover?

A familiar voice in the hallway outside the kitchen groused, "It's bad enough to take a cold bath in a bucket, but how can you stand that _soap_? I wouldn't even wash my floors with it! No lather." Milo came into the kitchen, carrying his clothes, a towel around his neck.

At this the man at the stove laughed, and Mu realized that the man at Aldebaraan's was – Aldebaraan.

And here was Milo, more or less naked in Aldebaraan's kitchen. Had _they_ – ?

Aldebaraan turned, noticed Mu's expression, and said quickly, "Milo went to the soccer game with me. Brazil was playing Greece – "

"You mean Greece was playing Brazil," Milo corrected with a wink. "He," Milo continued, speaking to Mu as he dropped his handful of clothes on a chair and began drying his wet hair with the towel, "was cheering for the wrong team at first, but I straightened him out. After the game we came back here for some beers. I should know better than to match drinks with someone twice my size." He added mischievously, "I fell asleep on the couch. Guess I can't cross The Bull off my list yet."

So, they _hadn't_ slept together? Mu felt relieved.

Aldebaraan laughed. "Oh ho, did I made the list at last? Or are you scraping the dregs of the barrel?"

Milo snapped his towel, smacking the Brazilian soundly on the ass. "Never! Now, remember what I told you, Mighty Oak."

Aldebaraan turned back to the camp stove and muttered, "Yes, yes. Perhaps."

"You _know_ I'm right." Milo said and, strolling past Mu to the doorway, added, "I know you'll think of someone."

It wasn't clear who this remark was addressed to. Mu half-turned to look at Milo, and then glanced back over his shoulder at Aldebaraan, catching him unawares.

Aldebaraan's face was full of longing. And it wasn't directed at Milo. "C-coffee?" he stammered, hefting the demitasse he had in his hand.

"Yes, please," Mu said, taking a step forward. This expression of Aldebaraan's – he had seen it so often, why had he never recognized it for what it was?

"You never took coffee before," Aldebaraan said, surprised.

"I decided just now that I should try it," Mu said, "because I think perhaps I will like it very much." He took the cup from the stunned Taurus Saint.

Milo watched this exchange paternally, muttered, "About damn time," then tossed the towel across the room and onto the kitchen chair. "So Mu," he asked as he stretched and yawned, catlike, "what time does Shaka start his morning meditation hour?" He fluffed the hair that was not on his head with his fingertips.

"About now," Mu replied absently. A strange sensation, to have so many things fall into place at once. Someone he enjoyed being with, who he wouldn't mind waking up next to. He wondered if Aldebaraan liked to be touched in any of the ways Milo did. Well, he would have to apply Milo's First Principle and pay attention to what Aldebaraan did to him. The thought was ... intriguing.

Milo nodded, pleased to be half-ignored. "Thanks. Well, see you later, then." Still nude, he turned and sauntered out toward the stairs that led up to Gemini.

" _Oi_ , Milo," Aldebaraan shouted after him, "you forgot your clothes. Aren't you going to get dressed before you go visiting Virgo Temple?"

"You know, I think I'll wear just a smile," Milo called back, tossing his blue-violet hair in the warm golden morning. "I've done some of my best work that way."

Mu and Aldebaraan watched him as he jauntily ascended the stairs. "That man," Aldebaraan said, "has a fine backside."

"Yes, he does," Mu agreed, leaning against his friend just a little.

A moment later Aldebaraan's arm draped tentatively across Mu's shoulder, but Mu didn't mind at all.

He felt _quite_ at home.

.

.

.

_The End_

.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> The original idea of this fic came back in November 2003, when, as I noted in my LiveJournal, the first line popped into my head. At the time I was reading Toffee's epic and beautiful _Unbroken_ series, which offers among its many delights a stunning and moving character study of Milo. It may also have been around that time that I read Acexkeikai's "Warrior's Rest" which has a short, funny scene of a post-TwelveTemples Milo, lonely and horny and stoned after Camus' death, hitting on an indignant Mu. I'd like cite both of these fics as inspiration for this one, as they were the ones that made Milo catch my eye in the first place, and pretty much formed the fanon perception of him I hope to play off in this fic. I'd also been tossing an idea around for a while of having a story that was more or less a sequel to "Intermezzo" that would let me spin out a little of the "dothead anatomy" that I'd been considering. When Philotas posted her "Host a Goldie!" challenge on the saintseiyaoi and saintseiyayaoifanfics MLs it all sort of came together.
> 
> The short version of the rules were: " _After a minor battle, one of the twelve temples is badly damaged, and its guardian has to be hosted by one of his fellow saints while the building is repaired. The two end up in bed together. There can be romance or not; it's not necessary for the two to have sex, only to be in bed together!. Extra points for "living adjustments" the two have to make._ "
> 
> I did violate the "after a minor battle" requirement, but due to the nature of the story I wanted to use the demise of a communications satellite as a small ironic twist.
> 
>  **Chapter 3**  
>  The anime the boys are watching at the end of chapter 3 is "Berserk".
> 
>  **Chapter 6**.  
>  The cloths Milo gave Mu to wear at the party were lifted from the initial outfit worn by Narsus / Narcasse in _Heroic Legend of Arslan_. Mu and Narsus were both voiced by the wonderful Kaneto Shiozawa (1954-2000). Milo's outfit is a nod to Toffee's _Unbroken_. 
> 
> **Chapter 7**  
>  Milo's comment about Shaka not sleeping with anyone unless he was ordered to is another homage to _Unbroken._
> 
> Thanks to the delightful **Gaelle** of the bilingual St. Seiya ML SSY2004, who gave me some modern suggestions to include in Camus's reading preferences.
> 
>  **Chapter 8**  
>  I need to thank **Talian** , **Musouka** , and especially **Toffee** for input on an earlier (and hideously bad) version of this chapter. Their comments convinced me that I had a ways to go to get it right, but I was stumped. Fortunately, a day later I watched the short OVA "Seikimatsu Darling" in which the line "It's easy to love. It's much harder to be loved." appears. I heard, I pondered, I light-bulbed, I stole – and now I'm 'fessing up.
> 
>  **Chapter 9**.  
>  If I may make some possibly inflammatory generalizations, it seems that most of the American fandom can't easily see Mu and Aldebaraan as a couple. This is different than the French fanficcers and Japanese fanartists I've been exposed to, who seem to take it as fanon and show it fairly often. Perhaps it's because it would be a relationship based on solid friendship and affection more than great passion and/or angst – or perhaps, based on the feedback I get, that most American fans see Alde as "ugly" (and therefore not deserving of love or passion)? I think, though, that Mu would love someone based on their heart, soul and spirit.
> 
> I must extend very special thanks to **Leslie Fish.** Leslie, one of the "Foremothers" of slash, was a sort of inspiration to me back in the 1970s (she made her living as a writer, and she put 10x more craft into her fan stories than anyone else). She's remained a sort of icon in the attic of my brain ever since. A few months ago I realized that the solution to a puzzle I had – how to convey a certain aspect of Shion's sexuality – was similar to what she had done for Mr. Spock in her classic K/S (well, really S/K) story "Poses" (the follow-up to "Shelter"). I had invented my own physiology for the dotheads, but didn't want to publish without getting her permission to mention her so that I could give her credit for the concept. After a brief correspondence, she graciously said it was OK that I riffed her idea. 
> 
> And a related thanks to my Latin scholar **Imbrium** for helping me find more wonderful terminology: _cuspis,_ "spear, pointed thing, hollow tube." She had earlier provided _tegimen_ which means, IIRC, both "shield" and "vault of heaven". The final word, _occasus_ , means "sunset", but also has associations with death ("little death", anyone?). As I explained in "Intermezzo" I envision the _occasus_ as a "fringed crescent moon" shape, this combining its meaning here with its position as the genital chakra.
> 
>  _First post 6 June - 7 September 2004_  
>  (43) 8 Mar 2010


End file.
